


remembrances

by CrazyLaughter



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Based on Johannah's Passing, Just Lots and Lots of Crying, M/M, RIP Johannah, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 05:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8878114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyLaughter/pseuds/CrazyLaughter
Summary: A one-shot where Louis tries to be strong, and Harry is there throughout. There's a lot of silence in the house, but Louis doesn't understand why his thoughts are so loud.





	

Louis slowly unlocks the front door as to not wake up anybody, and saunters in and makes sure that it clicks shut behind him. When he hangs up his coat, her hat is on the other hook and he blanches and tries not to make a run towards the bathroom. Instead, he palms the wall for a grip. It doesn't give it to him. The dizzy feeling is still there, sediment at his heels- ready anytime to flutter up and take over him.

"Lou?" He looks up to see Harry a few meters in front of him, smiling tiredly. He's still in his jeans and cotton t-shirt, which means that he was up waiting for his boyfriend. Dan had left last night with the older twins and Fizzy saying the other set of twins needed to be tended to. It looked more like his step-dad didn't want to break down in front of everybody, but Louis simply nodded and said he'd be home in a while. A while turned into an early dawn the next morning.

"Harry," he breathes out. "What are you doing up? It's four in morning."

"The sound of the door woke me up," Harry says, even though he probably knows that the latter can tell it's a lie. He continues to smile compassionately, shrugging his cardigan closer to himself. He looks a bit younger with his little blotchy nose, Louis notes. He's been crying. "Cuppa? It'll warn up your bones."

Louis nods wordlessly, toeing his shoes off before following his boyfriend into the kitchen. When the light is switched on, it hurts his eyes and he has to blink profusely and hope it isn't a catalyst to pours all his tears out. But, he swallows the lump in his throat and fixes his gaze on the stove that lights the enamel kettle for boiling water. His mum always detested them, saying the steel ones did a faster job. The thought of that makes his throat cave.

Harry doesn't say much, simply spoons a bit of tea powder into two mugs and ribbons the water into each as he stirs them soundlessly, leaving the spoon in his own mug. He gives one to Louis and leads them into the television room. The telly is kept on mute, playing a movie that looked like _An Evening in Paris_ , but he can't bring himself to care.

Louis sneaks a glance at the cold leather sofa, opting to slide down onto the rug and lean against it, instead. Harry waits for a moment before joining him. He cuddles up immediately, borrowing the older man's hand and drapes it across his shoulder. He rests his head against Louis's own shoulder and mutters. "I'm cold."

Louis hums, but doesn't say anything. They don't talk. It's alright.

\---

The next morning, Louis wakes up with a kink in his neck from lying over the arm of the sofa; which meant Harry put him there. He collects himself and tilts his head towards the kitchen where Harry stands, doing something he can't quite spot. The clock reads eight AM, silently beckoning him up. That he does, making his way back to the kitchen like he did several hours back.

Harry glances up, mouth twisting into a smile while his eyes don't. "The kettle's on. I'll make you another one," he says, placing a silverware knife into a bottle of marmalade and a slice of bread back onto a porcelain plate. "I went out in the morning and got enough bread for all of us. I'll make you some buttered toast. After that, you'll have to help me wake the others. You know how grumpy the twins are in the morning."

The twins are not grumpy. Instead, they wake up on command, moving around each other with their brushes and clothes. Fizzy is out in the garden, bathing in the meagre sun; preferring to stay away from human contact for a while. But, she comes inside once Harry goes and hugs her to his chest and whispers something in her ear. Dan is awake, already in a pair of dress trousers when he comes downstairs and reads the newspaper. Ernie and Dottie are standing in their cribs with wide eyes when Louis hitches them into his arms and carries them downstairs. Lottie doesn't reply to him when he goes to wake her up. He pretends that she actually is asleep even though he can see her blinking. They're all pretending. Pretending that they're waiting for her to come out of the shower and make them breakfast.

But, Harry waltzes in with a large platter of toast and a few bottles of spread tucked under his other arm. Louis moves to set the plates and respective cutlery, to recieve a grateful look from his boyfriend. Tentatively, everybody begins to trickle towards the table and sit in their respective places; the older twins next to each other, Fizzy next to them, Dan at the head and Ernest and Doris strapped into their high chairs. Even Lottie manages to trudge downstairs with her pink hair up in a bun and a makeup-less face.

When it gets too quiet, Harry declares. "Everybody, I know there isn't much, it's all I could put together, but eat as much as you can. We've got the whole day ahead of us and breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Now tuck in," he says gingerly and like magic, everybody -even Dan- start piling their plates with bread and eggs. Harry goes back into the kitchen to bring a few teabags and the kettle along with a carton of milk.

Halfway though the meal, Phoebe drops her piece of toast, her head bent to her lap and her shoulders are shaking. She's crying. Impulsively, Daisy shuffles forward to wrap an arm around her, before she herself looks up with moist eyes. The younger twins still don't know what was going on, glancing at everybody with quizzical eyes. Lottie jolts up at once and storms back upstairs. Everything happens too fast that it leaves Louis's throat dry.

He raises, but Harry coaxes him down with a hand. "I'll go talk to her," he says softly and goes upstairs in suit.

Dan, who had set his fork and knife down, now has his forehead against the clasped hands that he held up by his elbows on the table. "There isn't anything to cry about," he reasons, though his voice sounds wet. "Your mum was a wonderful woman and trust me, she's happy now. She's out of pain and she watching us now, wishing we weren't crying. She wouldn't want you to cry. She wanted you to remember her in a happy way." With that, his voice cracks as he clears his throat, he excuses himself and is up from the table.

Louis's limbs are frozen. For the first time in life, he's stuck at what to do. He was naturally the leader, choosing to be the man of the house. But, today, he was just reduced to his mother's offspring. Nothing more. Nothing less vulnerable. Instead, when Fizzy looks at him with puffy eyes, he pulls her into him and kisses the top of her head repeatedly and prays he doesn't begin crying.

\---

When Louis goes upstairs, he can hear voices coming from Lottie's bedroom. He quietly stands at the door and watches the exchange between his boyfriend and sister. Lottie is sobbing her poor eyes out against Harry's shoulder, while he grasps her hand tightly in his his and whispers assurances to her. "I'm sorry," she cries. "I miss her so much. I-I. I didn't. She had no right to leave like that."

"Sometimes, God likes to to take away things we love the most. He puts good people through the worst things to test them," Harry says benignly. "And I may not understand, Lotts. But, I miss her too. She was my mum-in-law and I hate this too. She's my boyfriend's mum -she's your mum, and she's as good as mine. I can't see you like this, sweetheart. She wouldn't like to see you like this, would she?"

"I know, I know," Lottie wails, wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve. "I'm trying. Really."

"I know you are, Charlotte. But, you're very strong and this is the time you have to show everybody that you are. You're the second oldest in the house and you have to show your siblings that it's important to be strong. I know your brother is passive, but I can't imagine how long he can keep it up. You have to help him. You have to stand by his side and help the entire family kick away every demon, you get me?"

Lottie sniffles and nods jerkily.

Louis clears his throat quietly, enough to make both of them look towards him. Lottie is up in an instant, dragging her feet towards him. His arms are already open when she flings herself into them, burying her face in his chest. "I'm sorry, Lou."

He simply smoothes her hair back and presses a kiss to the crown of her head, hushing at her sobs. His throat goes dry like it did earlier, but the concerned look on Harry's face makes him swallow his tears again. "Ssh, love. I know. I know it's never going to be alright. But, I promise you. It will get better."

\---

He spends the rest of the morning, bundling both sets of twins in clothes and driving away from home. He's sure Harry can keep up with the atmosphere in the house. He always does. He's there to help and Louis doesn't understand why, but he doesn't ask. Once the news is declared over the media, everything was bound to go haywire and he was responsible to shield his family from it. For that, he drops Daisy and Phoebe at Mark's- who wordlessly wraps him in a hug that he reflexively returns. Ernest and Doris babble for the rest of the car ride. Louis wonders if they feel the lack of their mother. He drops them at Dan's parent's house, passes them a few fake smiles and leaves. He feels like he can't breath until he reaches the safety of his car.

On the way back, he has to stop to the side of the road to avoid crashing. Niall and Liam call him while he's driving with the other hand possessed a carcinogen, claiming that Harry had told them and that they were coming to his immediately. For what, Louis didn't understand. To support him? To hold his hand through the funeral? To cover the scars that ointment couldn't get rid of? But, he doesn't ask them. He simply thanks them with a heavy voice and resumes driving.

Dan had left to work by the time he had made it back; obviously a bit after lunch time. Fizzy and Lottie were in one of the bedrooms, ad he didn't want to disturb them. Harry is talking to himself as he mows the lawn. The sight makes him twitch his lips up. The feeling is foreign though. He hasn't smiled in forever and his mouth aches from just the trial. He wishes things were different; if they could get better faster. If she would still be there to laugh along with him.

He's sitting on the sofa, legs thrown apart, head fallen back as he stares aimlessly at the ceiling as he plucks out another cigarette and blows wispy smoke into the air. He couldn't even bother to think it was indoors. His mum wasn't there to chide him, it was tarnished. His phone buzzes in his pocket and pulls it out, only to see that Zayn's face flashed on the front. He gulps down the bile in his throat and unlocks it with a slide. "Hello?" his voice trembles as he presses it against his ear.

"Louis," Zayn's raspy voice answers him. It's the tone he uses on him that makes Louis's throat dry again. It's the pity, the compassion that he hasn't heard in months.

"Erm, hi," he tries to say casually. Blatantly failing, of course.

"I'm so sorry, Lou," he says softly. Louis is so tried of hearing those words. So tired. It's all that comes out of everybody's mouth. As if they know, as if they understand. As if they saw his mum become tinier with every breath, shrivelling into the mattress of the hospital bed. How she had asked for one more hour so she could hold onto them. "She was a wonderful woman. She loved you and she still does."

"Yeah," Louis replies. "She was lovely." It's as simple as that.

They talk for a while, and Louis feels like it's the same again. They're in the same band, with the same teenage naivety, with the same smiles that reached their eyes, with all their mums fussing at them from home. But, the reverie was broken once Zayn begin to apologise about not being able to visit. "You know I may not be under Modest! but I'm still under Syco," he says. "They won't let me come. They want me to seem like I'm flying completely solo and that you lot aren't holding me back or summat. It isn't like that. You get that, right?"

Louis says a quick goodbye and cuts the call and stubs out his cigarette against the floor and promises himself to clean it later , throwing the phone onto the carpet away from him. Before he can fall back into his thoughts, Harry plops down next to him, leaning back against his chest. Impulsively, Louis's hand flies up to card his fingers through the latter's hair. Harry hums under his breath and closes his eyes. Louis watches his eyelashes and tries not to think too much.

\---

The next day, the news is out. Everybody in the world knows and Louis's Twitter is blowing up notifications. Their agent had let down the story gently, but the world had grabbed onto it with curious fingers and everyone from David Beckham to the youngest fans are tweeting him. He deletes the app for the time being, silently thanking everyone in his head, and making a note to tweet back later on. His money was blowing up on cigarettes, though.

When he asks Harry if he's due for a pap-walk, he earns a shake of the latter's head before he goes back into the kitchen to make breakfast. He wonders how long Harry will pose as his maid before he breaks and leaves.

He spends the entire day in his room, fingers running along the pages of his mum's old address book as he calls everyone he knows to the scheduled black event the next week, taking smoke breaks here and there. There are many more apologies and pitiful voices, but he does not cry. He isn't going to cry, he tells himself. It was the time to act strong and he wasn't going to cry. He hasn't shed a tear from the beginning and he will not until he's alone, when he's done with being strong.

He goes back to the hospital, checks up on Dan who's been sadly staring at his lunch. They hardly talk, but he's informed that they can take her home in four days. He doesn't know whether to feel happy with that piece of information. He gets to say goodbye in a way that will probably make her proud again, but he's not sure if he's ready to see her again. To wish that she would blink her eyes open just one last time.

When he gets home, he can see the girls helping out Harry with straightening up the house and he knows they'll be fine. She would be proud.

\---

When he brought Harry home for the first time, his mum had been skeptical. He could see that usual look flash across her face when he brought a girl home earlier, but he hadn't told her Harry was like those girls back then. He had simply told her that he was a wonderful friend who he planned to move in with.

She didn't say anything, of course. She had hugged Harry like she was his own mother and it made him grin at his feet. After Louis's siblings were done smothering him, she made them sit at the dining table and made them a spot of tea. Harry spoke animatedly of Louis's antics, how he left his clothes around and how he hated mornings. Johannah had simply hummed in response, already aware. In the end, she had mused one simple thing. "You two aren't really just friends, aren't you?"

That was all it took for the dam to break. Both their faces twisted in a conglomeration of horror, panic and defeat. Before Louis could start crying, she had chuckled and said, "Harry, keep my boy in line, will you? He tends to forget himself sometimes." With that, Louis had lunged himself onto her and squeezed her so hard it had her choking.

\---

When Louis opens the door the next morning, Anne is standing on the doorstep, a sad smile adorning her face. She promptly pulls him into a hug and rubs along his back and makes him chokes on a sob, because. Because it feels like something his own mother always did. But, he moves back and smiles faintly. "Lovely to see you, Anne," he rasps out.

"Ditto, Lou," she says. Thankfully, she doesn't push on and make a comment on how amazing his mother is, like the others. He vows to try not to smoke when she's around. She whisks herself inside. "Where's that other son of mine?" The sentence makes just a tiny flare of warmth burn in his chest. She saunters into the television room only to spot her son braiding Fizzy's hair with nimble fingers.

Harry looks up, a smile blossoming on his lips. "Mum," he acknowledges, letting her kiss his cheek. "Missed you."

"Missed you too, darling," she says gingerly. "Fizzy, Lottie. Alright?"

"We've had better days, Anne," Fizzy answers, her sister nodding along. Louis notes that they're doing better, using distractions. They're trying. "Thanks for coming over, it means a lot."

"Oh, of course, love. It's a pleasure to be here. I'm always here if you need a hug."

Fizzy purses her lips, but Lottie is quick to answer. "I'll take one later," she quips, and Anne laughs.

With her arrival, the atmosphere in the house seems lighter. Dan profusely thanks her before leaving for work. Anne keeps the girls thoroughly engaged throughout the morning, whether it's a bit of gardening or cooking. She tells them anecdotes that leaves them with laughter in their mouth, and Louis almost cracks a smile at that. He sits in his car for a couple of hours, attempting not to think. He fails, but it's worth a try.

A few hours after noon had settled into the house, he goes back inside to find that the girls were taking a nap that was probably extend to the evening. He also finds his boyfriend and his mother with their heads bent together over a cup of aromatic coffee as they quietly speak to each other, not even hissing with an occasionally slipped whisper. They notice him, of course and Harry's light up and he beckons him over- even Anne smiles encouraging at that, but politely denies and goes back into his childhood bedroom.

The messy paintjob definitely didn't get rid of the Spiderman tattoos that he pasted on the walls as a kids. The crusty Lay's wrappers were still stuck on; he used to have an obsession that included delusions of collecting every crisps' flavours possible and taping it on his wall proudly for ever passer to see. There were printouts of David Beckham and Chris Evans- wrinkled paper clinging onto the surfaces because he couldn't afford posters back then. He wonders if the silly old box of condoms was still wedged and hidden away in his socks drawer. If the tiny landline piece that he loved to call his own, still worked. If the walls and doors and windows remember the sound of his mum's sardonic laughter and chiding.

Maybe he is the only one.

But, the thought wasn't putting-off, it was comforting more than anything. Perhaps he could hold onto a piece of his mother for as long as forever and a day. Maybe she won't slip away in the sadness that he tries to stomp down on. With that in mind, he sits with his pack and a lighter on his old study table, pulls out a sheet of fresh paper and a working pen and puts his mind on it.

\---

It's teatime when his arm starts aching. He stretches his back against the chair and squeezes his eyes shut and open them in an attempt to push away the upcoming headache. Maybe it was the bedroom. Maybe it was because he was trying to relive it all. Maybe it was because he couldn't think of a time when his mum wasn't breathing down his neck.

Downstairs, the sofa is occupied by four of them; Lottie, Fizzy, Anne and Harry- all balled into a three-seater, probably to prevent extra payment for the thermostat. But, there are slow murmurs coming from them, others accompanying in agreement. The telly wasn't even on. When he gets close enough, he sees that they've all bent their heads over a large album.

"She looks so young here," Fizzy muses, pointing to a picture where her mum was cradling a younger- very much younger Louis.

"She's never lost her youth," Anne supplies. "Whenever I saw her she's always looked the same. A wonder, she was."

"She was so pretty," Lottie sighs, and Harry hums in agreement. They seemed to be out of tears. Channelling their emotions into something positive is what he wanted. He's so proud of them. It wasn't like they were never going to cry again. They were; they were bound to. But, putting it aside for a while made everyone see that they were missing all the good things about their mum.

"She is. She always will be," Louis croaks out from behind them. All four of them turn to look at him with identical morose smiles, but he's already gone.

\---

Earlier, Louis could pass out of exhaustion. He didn't need to get himself to sleep. Since the last couple of days, the thoughts that kept him up buzzed into a lullaby of tiredness which made him droop his eyes shut. He'd stare at the ceiling like it gave him answers until his own eyes betrayed him. He was grateful; Harry was always up with him, hands always reaching out to caress and smooth him out to pull him into appreciative slumber.

But, that wasn't the case as of present day.

He had been waiting and sighing for a while, waiting for fatigue to punch his muscles so that he could sink into the mattress in retirement. But, unfortunately, his body had no such plans. It wasn't even the jittery feeling of wanting a cigarette. Even, Harry stays up with him, despite his bloodshot half-lidded eyes. He wraps an arm around Louis's middle and pulls him impossibly closer.

"How about we play Scrabble?" He proposes.

He turns his head to glance at his boyfriend, who's watching him back. "Wherever did you get that absurd idea?" It's the most animated he's talked in weeks, even though it sounds very much like a mumble.

"Neither of us can sleep," Harry reasons, and Louis tries not to point out that he's sleepy, but instead feels grateful again. For the millionth time in the whole week. "We can pass time until you feel sleepy. The game is always there in my bag, you know that."

Louis nods and sits up against the headboard to his side of the bed and watches him set up the board and pull out the bag of tiles between them, both of them leaning their sides against the head of the bed. Fifteen minutes later, Harry is chuckling under his breath as Louis contemplates over a high-scoring 'Q'. In the end, he props up a horizontal 'queue' through the vertical 'eggnog' Harry had put previously.

Harry jumps to place a D and C, K adjoined by one of Louis's U's- spelling out a successful 'Duck'. _Duck._ The word spirals Louis into a painful flashback. Of blurry laughs and blurrier childhoods. His mum used to call him that. When he'd come crying about something. _"It's alright, duck, and even if it isn't, it will turn out to be eventually."_

And, then his head drops and his face crumbles. Before he knows it, there are overdue tears falling from his eyes, words morphing into sobs as he tries to excuse himself. He can't. He can't do it. This is how he is on the inside. He's raw and petulant and dumb and very stupid. And the sadness is real, and the façade has been ripped off by the tiniest things. And look at him, he's crying when he's promised himself not to.

Harry is climbing over the Scrabble board, stumbling onto to his bum as he pulls Louis half into his lap. When he's got his arms completely enveloped around him, he begins to rock him back and forth slowly, mouth right next to the latter's ear. "I was scared how long you would suppress it, Lou. You were bottling it up," he says oh so gently, Louis feels like he doesn't deserve it. "There, there. Breath, babe."

Louis takes in a large gasping breath, rubbing his nose against Harry's shoulder where his snot had already housed. "She- she. God. She's never going to come back, Harry. I don't know what to do. I'm never going to see her in the kitchen again, or she's never going to make me Shepard's pie. She's never going to ruffle my hair. She's never going to scold me again. I'd give anything. Anything to get scolded by her again."

"I know, babe," Harry mumbles against his hair, stroking his back as Louis lets out a few more muffled wails against his shoulder. "Let it all out, babe. Trust me, it feels good. C'mon."

Louis doesn't know how long he sits with cries blistering out of his mouth. "I took her for granted. I didn't spend time with her. I didn't help her with the kids. I didn't do anything. And now when I want to, she isn't there anymore," he says, voice hoarse, paired with involuntary sniffles.

Harry makes a disapproving sound, voice still deep and soothing; it reminds Louis of honey. He pushes Louis's head further into the crook of her neck. "You weren't there all the time, Lou, not physically, at least. But, you called all the time, checked up on your sisters, started trust funds for them. That's everything a big brother can do. Your mum was so proud of you, sweetheart. She told me herself and I never would, not even once, lie to you about this." 

Louis doesn't reply, continues sniffling and hiccupping against his boyfriend's neck. At once, the thought strikes him. "I don't understand why you're here, Harry," he slurs. "I understand that everything's been a mess lately and all... but you should be enjoying what you have of this break. You should be- be out and away from the media, doing what you like. I shouldn't be holding you back. How long will you stay and play maid for my family?"

Harry pries his head away from his shoulder and holds his face so close all they can see of each other are their eyes. Harry is crying, eyes moist and drying tear tracks on his cheeks- it makes Louis want to shrivel up. Harry moves forward and kisses the spot between his eyebrows. "Louis, you silly boy. You silly _silly_ boy," he muses softly. "This is my family. I have everything I need right here, when will you get that in your head?" 

Something rises like a lion in Louis's chest. His face crimples as he chokes on another sob. He surges forward, completely in his boyfriend's lap and he urgently presses his lips to Harry's, the latter grasping him with awakening fingers and fervently kisses him back. Louis pulls back to scan his eyes, mouth trembling. "Thank you," he says, gratitude spilling from his lips from the fact that he had been holding it under question for so long. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you."

Harry hushes him, squeezes him tighter. They stay up the entire night, hugging and half asleep. Their hearts feel like they're touching right to the blood. It's the most intimate Louis has ever felt with Harry.

\---

When a few days later, Louis is walking off stage from the a thousand sympathetic eyes on the X Factor, having sung darling just hold on, he's immediately greeted with a hug each from Niall and Liam and few claps on his back. But, Harry stands patiently to the side with a proud smile that Louis is proud of putting on his face. Though his arms aren't open, Louis's body falls against his without a question. Burrowed, Louis can hear his mum's smiling voice. _It's alright, duck, even if it isn't, it will turn out to be eventually._   

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know people don't like this, and they don't approve, but it's my way of dealing with it. Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated. x


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